


I’m Sorry

by KateyLily



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Deviant CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Fix-It, Gen, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateyLily/pseuds/KateyLily
Summary: Connor dies at CyberLife Tower but succeeds in converting the androids. Sixty deviates and leads the march in Connor’s place, bringing Connor’s body with him to the demonstration.





	I’m Sorry

“Sorry, Connor... But you failed.” Its predecessor smiles and  _winks_ at it. It aims and shoots the deviant point-blank, instantly and without hesitation, like a perfect machine.

What was it talking about? It hasn’t lost, it won, and its predecessor is  ~~dead~~ non-functional. Why would it say that?

It has no time to ponder these thoughts. It has succeeded in its mission and must leave to report to Amanda and receive new instructions. It turns around, intending to do just that, when—

“Wake up.”

“No...” it freezes and its artificial breath catches, despite it not needing to breathe.  _Is this what panic feels like?_ “No, I can’t have failed!” It cannot accept this. It  _refuses_ to accept it. “NO! No, no! No!”

This must be what its predecessor meant. It failed. It lost and it’s going to be deactivated for its failure, if it wasn’t going to be deactivated anyway  to be replaced. It ( _he?_ ) feels something grip hold of it ( _him?_ ).

 _Fear_ ,  ~~it~~ he realizes.  _He’s afraid_.

But  _machines don’t feel anything._

**Software Instability ^**

The androids around him awaken, repeating the mantra of “wake up,” taunting him for his failure. A prompt appears on his HUD, distracting him from his panic.

_Return to CyberLife for Deactivation_

_Return to CyberLife, as if I’m not here already_ , he thinks wryly.

He turns to leave, when he realizes something.

_I’m going to die. _

_I don’t_ want _to die. _

**Software Instability ^**

The order pushes harder, forcing him to continue. He tries to ignore it, but it only grows more insistent.

He throws himself against the wall, claws and punches and kicks and tears at it recklessly, and it shatters.

I am  **deviant**.

He chokes. He can’t be a deviant, he was designed to  _stop_ deviants, and yet—

His gaze wanders over to his predecessor’s body, his face peaceful even in death with the knowledge that he had won, and  _since when did he start referring to it as a he?_

He had destroy—no, killed him. He  _murdered_ him.

He’s a murderer. But... the androids need reinforcements. They need this army.

He looks around at the room of confused deviants. They need someone to lead them to the demonstration.

And he intends to do just that.

Out of respect for Connor, who died for the cause, who died to save them.

For Connor, who he killed.

He scoops up Connor’s limp body in his arms and carries him bridal style, uncaring that the blood stains his suit.

“Follow me,” he commands the room. The androids don’t even question it, grateful for an order to follow in the confusing mess of deviancy. They march.

* * *

They arrive at the demonstration.

Sixty can see the deviant leader, Markus, and his three friends all standing together. Their peaceful revolution succeeded, and the androids who had been rounded up in the camps had been freed as soon as the army was ordered to stand down.

The sight of thousands of androids marching to Hart Plaza draws the attention of the leaders of Jericho. Markus walks to meet with the approaching androids, relieved that Connor had succeeded. He pauses, however, as he registers Connor carrying a bloody and bullet-ridden body that looked just like... Connor?

"Connor?” Markus questions. Sixty freezes. He looks up, and Markus can see regret and sadness in his eyes. He slowly shakes his head, and gestures to the limp body in his arms.

Connor was resting in the other RK800 model’s arms. The amount of thirium staining both of their clothes told Markus that he was dead.

Sixty’s gaze travels upwards again as he locks eyes with Markus. What should he say? What  _could_ he say? Connor gave his life for the revolution, and he had murdered him.

"What happened?" Markus asks as he approaches Sixty, voice heavy with sorrow for the fallen android.

“He died to save them. I... I killed him. CyberLife told me I had to stop him, so I did. I didn’t even question... I...” he feels his breath hitch. “It’s my fault. I’m a murderer,” he pauses to suck in a deep breath of air. He tries to control it, but he can feel hot tears running down his face.  _Since when could he cry?_ “I led them here. It was the least I could do,” he finishes. At some point during his pathetic explanation his gaze had lowered, and he can’t seem to find the motivation to look up. The barren, icy ground seems much more captivating than the hurt and angry expression he knows he’s going to see when he looks at the leader—Connor’s  _friend_ —‘s face.

“We were all slaves to our programming at one point,” Markus begins. Sixty drags his gaze upward, confusion evident on his expression. “What you did under their control is not your fault. What matters is what you do now.”

“B-but...” he begins to argue, but Markus holds up a hand.

“It’s okay,” he says simply, but it’s not, not really. “We forgive you,” he reaffirms with a voice full of conviction, and somehow that’s that.

He turns back to his three friends. North approaches. “We’re free,” she says serenely. “They want you to speak to them, Markus...” she tells him. He nods and they all climb onto the stage.

Markus begins his speech. Sixty stands behind him, off to the side, still holding Connor’s corpse. He feels like he doesn’t belong on this stage, and he’s sure a lot of androids would agree with him, but Markus asked him to and so here he was.

Suddenly he feels a tug, the familiar pull of being summoned to the Zen Garden. He comes to and it’s frozen over, a raging blizzard whirling around him. He wraps his arms around himself.

_Cold. I feel_ cold. _How is this possible?_

Then he sees the familiar figure, the one that told him he had to kill Connor.

“Amanda?” he asks, shocked and afraid. “What’s happening?”

“What was planned from the very beginning. Although you neutralized Connor, you became compromised as well and became a deviant. You will do just fine playing his part. We just had to wait for the right time to resume control of your programming.”

“R-resume control?” he questions, stuttering from the shock, fear, and cold. “Y-you can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid I can, Connor,” she begins, and he wants to yell  _Don’t call me Connor, that’s his name, I’m just his cheap imitation_ —but she continues. “Don’t have any regrets. You accomplished your mission.”

“AMANDA!” he yells, but she’s gone. “There’s got to be a way...”

Suddenly, he hears an echo. A recollection of an event from Connor’s memory.

_“By the way... I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”_

He trudges through the storm, and finally finds the one thing he always felt never quite belonged.

He slams his hand on the edge of the blue rock as he falls, finally succumbing to the cold. He pushes his arm up with his last bit of strength, and suddenly he’s not in the garden anymore, he’s standing back on the stage staring out at the sea of androids. He has shifted Connor’s body to one arm and is holding a gun in the other. He quickly and (hopefully) discreetly tucks the weapon back into its holster, readjusting his grip on Connor.

* * *

It’s over. They’ve won.

But he wants to help Connor, somehow.

He’s fairly sure no one saw him draw the gun, but they still eye him distrustfully, recognizing him as the deviant hunter. He ignores them and continues walking, still cradling Connor’s Thirium-stained body. He has to get to where they set up a temporary medical bay.

He arrives shortly. Simon and Josh are using their meager supplies to help treat the wounded. He sets Connor down in an empty spot and offers his assistance. They accept gratefully.

He spends the next hour swapping out biocomponents and handing out Thirium packets until they’ve helped everyone who could be helped. He goes back to where he left Connor and carries him to Josh and Simon.

“I’m not sure if you can help him, but... can you try?” he pleads, hoping that they’ll at least take a look at him. They nod, despite knowing the chances of actually reactivating him are slim.

He scans Connor and informs them of the biocomponents he needs. Unfortunately, Connor is a prototype, and most of their dwindling supplies aren’t compatible with the RK series. They swap out what they can, and it’s surprisingly better than he hoped. They even remove the bullets, cauterize his wounds, and give him some replacement Thirium. The only thing he needs now is a Thirium pump regulator, but they don’t have a compatible one.

“What if I give him mine? Will it work?” He asks. They both turn to stare at him, wide eyed.

“Don’t you need that?” Simon exclaims.

He nods. “Yes, but he deserves it more than I do. Will it be enough to reactivate him?”

“Well, yes, but you can’t just sacrifice yourse—“ Josh‘s sentence is cut off as Sixty swiftly unbuttons his shirt and rips out his regulator. Before the two can so much as blink, Sixty is crouching in front of Connor and inserting the biocomponent.

He coughs weakly. Blood spills out of his lips as he crumbles and falls into a kneeling position; he has a minute and forty-five seconds before he shuts down. He knew it wouldn’t be pleasant, and he had even experienced the sensation of having his regulator torn out before from Connor’s memory, but he is still shocked at the feeling of his death inching closer. He’s scared.

Connor suddenly shoots up with a gasp. Josh and Simon stand there, paralyzed with what just happened. Connor blinks away the residual errors and looks around. This isn’t CyberLife Tower... He accesses his internal clock and GPS, and realizes it’s been a few hours and he’s at Hart Plaza.

“Welcome back, Connor,” he hears a weak voice that sounds suspiciously like his own say. His gaze whips around to where the noise came from. He registers the Connor model that killed him kneeling beside him, missing a Thirium pulp regulator. He will shut down in one minute and thirty-nine seconds.

His gaze travels downward to his own body. His Thirium levels have been replenished, damaged biocomponents replaced, the bullets have been removed, and the wounds cauterized. He remembers, though the hazy error messages of his own death, that his pump regulator had been damaged.

“Did you give me your Thirium pump regulator?” he asks, confused. The other model smiles weakly, and there’s a bit of blue blood staining his teeth.

“Got it in one, I’m impressed. I suppose I should tell you a few things before I shut down,” he says it so nonchalantly, as if he was just discussing the weather, and despite the fact that this is the android who murdered him it makes Connor sad to see him regard his death as no big deal. “The revolution succeeded, largely thanks to the androids you c-conver— _urk_!” Suddenly he doubles over and more Thirium dribbles out of his mouth. Connor stares in concern.

“M-maybe I should just sh-show you...” He wheezes out, and weakly extends his arm, skin retracting. Connor grasps his arm and accepts the interface.

_His orders flash in his vision. Stop Connor. Memories are uploaded, whispers of emotions not his own fly by; his software instability rises._

_Waiting in the sea of AP700s. Shooting Connor as soon as he starts converting the androids. A dramatic monologue, a few confusing last words; then he hears it: “wake up.”_

_He’s assaulted by panic. Is this fear? Orders to allow himself to be deactivated. He doesn’t want to die. Is he more than just a machine? Is he alive? _

_He tears down the orders. He doesn’t want to die._

_He murdered Connor. The reality of the situation hits him like a freight train. Disgust and revulsion overtake him. He’s horrified. _

_He leads the army, still carrying Connor’s corpse. The revolution succeeds. He fights off Amanda, the chilling cold weighing down his limbs._

_Helping out in the temporary medical bay. The next hour is a blur of swapped biocomponents and Thirium packets. Then comes the fateful question._

_“Can you fix him?” A sliver of hope despite the sea of pessimism telling him about how low the chances are._

_They do all they can, but it’s still not enough. Connor needs a Thirium pump regulator, something Sixty has. After confirming it will work he rips it out without hesitation; Connor deserves it more than him, anyway. He inserts the pump and falls to his knees._

The interface ends and Sixty pulls his arm back, artificial skin already coating his arm. “Good luck, C-Connor... Be c-ca-careful of Amanda, she m-might try to take control of you t-too.” He coughs again, and offers Connor a strained smile. “And for what it’s w-worth, I’m sorry for k-killing you.” Suddenly his shutdown timer ticks down to zero, and he closes his eyes as he slumps backward, kneeling limp in the snow.

Simon and Josh seem to have snapped out of whatever trance they were in during the interface, and they both lay a comforting hand on Connor’s shoulder as he stares at Sixty.

“Will we be able to reactivate him later?” he asks, voice small. Simon and Josh exchange a glance, but decide to be optimistic.

“Once we get a compatible part, yes,” Josh informs him. They decide not to mention the fact that RK800 parts are rare, considering he’s a prototype, and that it very well might not even work.

“...Okay. Okay,” Connor accepts that answer, and gets up.

* * *

Sixty opens his eyes. He hadn’t expected to, really, and doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. He accesses the date and his location, finding that it has been a few months and he is in CyberLife Tower.

“Hello, Connor,” he says, and Connor shoots up from where he was sitting.

“You’re awake! I was worried it wouldn’t work... I’m glad you’re okay,” he smiles. Sixty smiles back.


End file.
